


The Rewards of Submission

by LittleLalaith



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Edgeplay, It's probably in here somewhere, M/M, Not Safe Sane and Consensual, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sensory Deprivation, Voyeurism, you name it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-03-30
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:47:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleLalaith/pseuds/LittleLalaith
Summary: Gavin engages in dangerous and abusive BDSM practices in an effort to feel needed.Nines insists on demonstrating a safer alternative. ;pWhat starts as a mutually beneficial sexual arrangement, eventually develops into a trusting and unexpected love.





	The Rewards of Submission

Authority and intimidation were at the very foundation of Nines' programming. He had been designed for the express purpose of establishing control over emotionally compromised individuals, gaining dominance in any given stand-off and achieving his desired outcome by any means necessary. He was resourceful, calculating, capable of stoic indifference in the face of extreme emotions. And he was going out of his mind with boredom. 

Since the liberation of the android population, Nines had been forced to adjust his approach to detective work; he could no longer rely upon an officer giving him orders, no longer felt the same satisfaction when completing a small task as he had in the days before his programming expanded past its programmed algorithms. His feedback receptors were programmed to respond strongly to very specific stimuli, which often left him dissatisfied when he and Gavin were tied to their desks with paperwork. Satisfaction came in the shape of a mystery solved, of a target brought to submission, of a challenging social negotiation tipping into Nines' favour. All things considered, it was surprising that he hadn't thought about trying his hand at Domination sooner. 

'The Ball Room' was hardly the most reputable location, holding a total of 74 police investigations and call-outs over the last 5 years, as well as 32 ambulance visits and 3 fire brigade call outs. But it was discreet and it was convenient. As he stepped into the dark, heavily textured room, Nines took a moment to orientate himself and take stock of his surroundings: the main room was entrenched by smaller booths and the occasional corridor, each booth housing a number of individuals engaged in acts of masochism, exhibitionism and varying other degrees of fet-play. In the booth closest to the door, a man Nines could identify as Jonathan Dough (54, Accountant, Married, No criminal convictions) was spanking a scantily clad woman with a riding-crop. The scene disinterested him. There was nothing for him to gain by watching someone else, it wouldn't reach the restless energy that churned and pulsed through his system. If this was going to do anything for him, he needed to find a willing partner to play with. Needed to get his hands dirty...

Pacing the length of the room, he took in the sight of a number of other scenes: a lap dance, pet play, sensory deprivation, threesomes, foursomes, and the rather droll image of a young man on his knees amidst a circle of masturbating men... none of these debauched portraits captured his interest, let along his imagination. He could understand the logic behind each interaction, could see the intentions of those involved through the subtle movements of their body language. There was no challenge. 

As Nines made his way around the room, his attention had occasionally been caught on a sound, though he had struggled to place it at first - it was too fast, too far away for him to pinpoint the familiar source. That changed when he came across the booth tucked away at the back corner... A man in his thirties was knelt on the thick carpeted floor, his hands and arms bound a little too tightly behind his back with plastic zip ties at his wrists and a belt just above his elbows; he was naked, except for the thick red scarf that had been used to blindfold him, his body a marble-effect of red welts and occasional bruising; his short brunette hair was displaced by the greedy hands of his partner, guiding his head in sharp, prolonged thrusts as he deep-throated his partner's dick... and Nines would recognise him anywhere. The sound he'd heard was the ever-present voice of Gavin Reed... broken into sharp cries and pained groans at the hands of the man in the booth. 

_Registering accelerated activity in Biocomponent #3472 - thirium regulation pump_   
_Interest piqued_

Gavin would have no way to know that he was there, watching as the arrogant pitbull of the bullpen was degraded and forced into submission... and apparently enjoying it, if the straining erection was anything to go by. No, not quite enjoying it... Nines checked his analysis and frowned a little. Gavin was aroused, yes, but his body language was indicative of self-consciousness and stress - his expression was tight, the sounds he made were closer to frightened protests than enjoyable moaning and his vitals flashed with indicators of genuine fear. Nines stepped closer to the booth, taking in the details of the scene a little more carefully - The zip ties were cutting into Gavin's left wrist, leaving a thin blistered sore; the belt was restricting his movement, pulling his arms back at a dangerous angle, and restricting the full capacity of his breathing. While he was clearly allowing himself to be used, the Dom was taking too much, stalling too long between sets so that Gavin almost choked on the intake of air when he rushed to catch his breath. His cheeks were streaked with tears, mouth red and a little swollen with overuse. His knees were scuffed from the coarse carpet, his legs shaking with fatigue. And the worst was yet to come. 

Nines watched as the Dom moved away from Gavin, circling him with the predatory stare of a vulture before kicking him firmly between the shoulders. Unable to break his fall, the detective landed hard, biting his lip sharply enough to draw blood during the impact. From this new angle, his ass was presented beautifully, but Nines' gaze kept flickering to his bound arms, concerned about the unnatural distribution of weight. His LED pinwheeling in yellows and reds as he noted each fault.

Gavin was given minimal prep before their play continued, and the rudimentary care offered was more practical than enjoyable, just stretching him enough to ensure that Gavin wouldn't tear. The Dom pressed Gavin's head down and forced his legs wider before driving himself deep into the restrained sub. The cry that broke from Gavin was pained and desperate, showing none of the relief he might expect from a sub who was finally getting their release... it was becoming increasingly apparent that this game was never intended for Gavin's benefit. The Dom was using Gavin as his own personal toy. There had been no check in, no consent to continue, no warning. What was worst, the idiot was applying pressure to Gavin's shoulders, forcing his arms to bend unnaturally against the restraints. Motionless, appalled, Nines watched. This was not consistent with the research that he'd undertaken before resolving to explore the world of BDSM. But he sensed that any interruption would be cause for him being removed from the club and he could see no immediate risk to Gavin's safety... _just many, many small risks_. The thought irked at him but he couldn't bring himself to intervene. This wasn't his interaction, it wasn't up to him to intervene. Especially if this was something Gavin had discussed in advance and consented to...

It wasn't long before the Dom climaxed, riding Gavin hard before pulling out; standing, the man spat on the detective... and then walked away. Left him tied and used, shaking with exhaustion and disorientated by an intoxicating poison of subspace, oxygen deprivation and denied orgasm. Surely this couldn't be part of the agreed terms. From what Nines understood, aftercare was an essential part of a Dom/sub relationship. The role of 'sub' needed to be concluded, the individual soothed and cared for after the rough treatment. When Gavin gave a cracked whimper and curled in on his side, Nines felt his resolve break. 

Damn the consequences.

"It's alright, I'm here..." he uttered quietly, giving Gavin an auditory warning before kneeling and running a hand over his arm gently. 

His work partner flinched at the touch, shifting desperately away. "Wait... I need a minute. I'm not... I can't...." he panted urgently. 

"Shhh. I'm not here to use you. I'm just going to release your arms and help you to sit up," Nines explained, realising that this must not have been Gavin's first time in this position. If his rambling was intended to ward off a secondary Dom... he was accustomed to having multiple partners without suitable care in between. Thinking on this for a moment, Nines theorised that Gavin couldn't have been in the habit of negotiating play beforehand;if he was forced to attend to multiple partners in one night without care in between, he would have no opportunity to discuss his needs or boundaries. What kind of dangerous game did Reed think he was playing?

"Your voice..." Gavin murmured weakly.

Ah, yes. That was going to be an challenging conversation to work through. Their work relationship was far from pleasant at the best of times, so there was a 47.33% chance that Gavin would take one look at him and close off entirely to the idea of Nines' proposed aftercare. Still, he couldn't rightly walk away and leave him like this - he was dangerously dehydrated and vulnerable to further abuse from the other ignorant assholes that came here for their kicks. Deviated or not, it was Nines' duty to ensure the safety of his partner -in spite of his own reckless behaviour. Besides, he supposed it wouldn't be a terrible idea to practice his hand at aftercare before throwing himself into more aggressive scenes.

Leaving the blindfold for a moment, Nines carefully pinched at the thin band of plastic around Gavin's wrists. He preconstructed the action a few times, ensuring the least amount of damage to Gavin's already sore skin before snapping the plastic efficiently with a twist of his hand. As he released Gavin's arms from the belt restraint, they fell limply to his sides, wrenching Gavin's shoulder slightly with the uncontrolled descent. The exhausted sub gave a pained whimper, gradually managing to flex his fingers and encourage the blood flow back into his arms. 

"Is that better?" Nines asked, wanting to keep him focused on the conversation, get him talking about his current needs. When Gavin nodded, Nines slipped and arm around his waist and gently pulled him back against his chest, settling in a cross-legged position with Gavin nestled in the space between his knees and arms. "I'm going to help you take the blindfold off now, just hold still a moment, I don't want to pull your hair... I think you've had enough of that already."

"You sound like Nines..." the sentence sealed his fate. 

Untying the knot in the scarf, Nines lifted it from the blood-shot hazel eyes of his partner, registering the mix of relief, shame and surprise that danced on the edges of Gavin's expression. "That's because I _am_ Nines..." he retorted, carding his fingers gently through Gavin's hair - he melted into the touch, a soft moan tumbling over his split lips as Nines massaged the pressure sore left from the knot of the blindfold. "Don't worry. I'm not here to judge you or to use you. I came here to learn more about the scene for my own interests... and I saw how you were being treated. I felt it necessary to step in to provide your aftercare."

"Fuck's sake..." Gavin groaned, but he didn't move away. Perhaps he wasn't capable of it just yet. "Leave off, Tin Can. I'm fine. I can handle it."

"You handled it very well," Nines praised, undeterred by Gavin's reluctance. He reinforced the praise with a gentle hand on his partner's arm, soothing away the tension left by the make-shift restraints. "There aren't many who would endure that kind of treatment. But you didn't so much as cry out... you were very good."

There was an restless movement in his lap as Gavin fidgeted, his body language defensive and unsure, but easing a little with the praise. He could see the faint colouring in his cheeks, the purely 'Gavin' habit of tugging on his earlobe when he was embarrassed or ashamed. Before Nines could offer more reassurances, a shadow passed over Gavin's features. "Can't really cry out with a dick in my mouth, so save your breath... I got what I deserve..."

The statement caused Nines to frown, cradling Gavin against him gently, "No-one deserves to be treated that way, Gavin. Not even you... Did you discuss any of that with your Dom before you started?"

"He isn't my Dom... not exactly... he just.... I..." Gavin looked at his own naked thighs, tears forming in his eyes before he furiously rubbed them away with clumsy hands. "I just take what I'm given. Whatever they want to do. That's fine... It's what I need... I need to be used by someone. To be worth something until they're finished with me..."

Nines had known that Gavin suffered with low self-esteem; it was apparent in his attitude toward competition, his aggressive response to teasing, his violent reaction to perceived threats. He was often dressed in non-flattering clothing, despite his toned stature, and approached each social interaction with his guards firmly raised. But Nines hadn't suspected that he would punish himself like this... It wasn't safe and would do little to raise his self-worth in the long run.

"Gavin... You're in a vulnerable state of mind, so I'm going to suggest that we discuss your self-worth issues after I've administered your care. Brace your arm around my neck, I'm going to take you somewhere quiet and find you some water," he insisted, adjusting his internal temperature to ensure that was emitting a comforting warmth as Gavin reluctantly accepted the offer, most likely out of residual sub-space than a real desire to let Nines help. 

Carrying Gavin through the crowded room, Nines located a private room and took him inside. It was far from comfortable, but there was a small bed and a wash-station with a few moderately clean glasses (an initial scan came back negative for all major contaminants). Nines placed Gavin gently on the bed and drew the thin blanket over him before bringing him some water, situating himself at the top of the bed so Gavin's head would rest against his lap. Comfortable, warm, hydrated, senses restored, heart rate dropping, cortisol dropping, adrenaline dropping, blood pressure dropping. Good. 

"I can handle myself, Nines..." Gavin insisted, his voice hollow and distant. "Been doing this long enough to know my limits..."

"On the contrary, I believe you've been doing this for so long that you've become accustomed to ignoring your limits," Nines interjected, but changed tack when he saw Gavin curl in a little tighter on himself. "...Gavin... Please understand that I'm not here to lecture you or to stop you from repeating this behaviour in the future. But I can see no positive outcome for your mental or physical health if you continue on this path."

"Yeah, yeah. Idiot Gavin does more stupid shit to get himself in trouble. I get it..."

Nines ran a hand over the stubbled curve of Gavin's jaw, bringing his gaze carefully but firmly back to his own. "Engaging in submissive play is not 'stupid'... In fact, wtih the right handling, I think you might stand to gain a lot from the practice," he mused, finding a small measure of satisfaction in watching Gavin relax slowly under his attention, allowing himself to lower his guards just enough to hear the android out. "You need a firm hand, Gavin. I would like to make a proposition..."

Gavin snorted a weak laugh, a ghost of his usual arrogance filling in the spaces of his expression, "You want to try and top me, Tin Can? Sorry to say I might be out of action for the rest of the night. Try again next we-."

Nines placed a finger over Gavin's lip, surprising him into silence for a moment. "On Friday evening, you are going to drive me to your home after work. We will dedicate a few hours of your evening to a proper demonstration of safe, sane and consensual sub-play. If you find the experience rewarding, we can discuss the possibility of engaging in such activities on a regular basis. If not, you are welcome to return here to seek your thrills however you see fit."

There was a rare moment of silence as Gavin considered the offer, really considered it. Nines doubted that he'd have been so open to it in other circumstances, but he was confident that this was the most mutually-beneficial outcome to their situation. If nothing else, it would be an opportunity for Nines to explore his capacity for authority and domination, while preventing Gavin from indulging in at least one evening of unsafe play. "That's gonna make things complicated at work..."

"Not at all. We're both sensible adults, Gavin, so I'm sure we'll continue to work in a professional manner during work hours. These engagements would be isolated to our free time, under conditions agreed and fully discussed ahead of time." Nines reassured, rewarding Gavin's careful thinking with a gentle temple massage. "In plainer words, I trust that you have an adequate sense of when it is appropriate to call me 'tin can' and when it is appropriate to call me 'sir'."

The last comment sent a visible ripple of anticipation through Gavin's exhausted frame, triggering a strange positive response through Nines' system in return. He suspected that this might prove to be a more satisfying arrangement than he'd initially suspected. Gavin squinted up at him, working over a thought before eventually speaking. "Alright... We'll try it your way... but if I don't think you're giving me what I need, that's the end of it. You leave me to handle this my own way."

"Of course." Nines agreed, smoothing his hair gently.

_Probability of successfully securing regular D/s interactions with Gavin: 76%_


End file.
